


Together Again

by Ryzaphelle



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8133758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryzaphelle/pseuds/Ryzaphelle
Summary: The King of Adarlan returns to the Castle of Orynth after months spend in Rifthold only to find his wife and mate cheating on him...with her own fingers. Smut ensues ;)





	

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I’m not going to beat around the bush and describe this shit with a fluffy poetic synopsis. This is literally just porn without that much of a plot, that I pride myself on writing. Hell! Two or three years ago I felt too scandalised at writing two characters kissing, and here I am now, writing 3k fics about two fictional characters fucking.
> 
> Because why not?

Amongst the faint sounds of nature outside, the room was filled only by sharp intakes of breath and the wet smack of skin against skin. **  
**

Aelin Galathynius bit her lip, one hand kneading her breast, the other between her spread legs as her fingers pressed erratic circles into her clit. She lay on her back, her hair fanned out against the jade green of her bed covers, a bed of which she'd spent the last three months alone in.

Dorian couldn't blame her as he watched from the door, her eyes closed in bliss, he'd done the exact same thing every night he spent alone in Rifthold. But it was an odd way to reunite with his lover, nonetheless.

He'd even made sure to get back into Orynth in the early hours of the morning just so he could spend the rest of the day with his mate, just to show her how much he missed her.

And show her he would.

He watched her for a while longer, irked at how she hadn't detected his presence both with her magic and fae senses. But the moaning that she elicited from her sensuous mouth was indicator enough that her mind was elsewhere. Her nightwear was wildly dishevelled, her shorts were halfway down her legs and the neckline of her top had been yanked down to reveal the breast she now groped, flicking her thumb over and pinching the nipple every now and again.

A hardness began to make itself apparent inside Dorian's trousers and he bit his lip, showing his restraint from launching himself onto that bed and burying himself deep inside her right then and there.

But he wanted to take his time, make up for all that had been lost while they were apart.

Her eyes snapped open and she sprung up from the bed when he spoke, “If I had known you missed me _that_ much, my Queen, I would have returned _much_ sooner.” A playful smirk tugged at his lips as he watched her squirm beneath his gaze, her face hot but set into an expression of annoyance.

And deep down beneath it all, her eyes showed how glad and relieved she was that he was home once more.

Then a smirk grew on her own face and she patted the bed next to her. “Why don't you join me, Majesty, and I'll show you just how much your absence from my court has affected me.” She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Oh, he wanted to make her moan - and scream, and cry his name, and make sure his touch was branded into her memory-

_But not just yet._

He came around to her side of the bed, taking slow - almost predatory - steps, watching her as she ran a hand through her hair before tossing her rumpled sleeping shorts behind her. She was up on her knees in an instant, hands reaching up to his neck, her fingers caressed the skin there before being replaced by her lips. She kissed a path down his collar, unbuttoning his tunic while she went. He closed his eyes and repressed a moan at the sensation of her lips on his body. Soon, she descended to the waistline of his trousers, and she caressed with a slender finger the throbbing erection hidden within them. All Dorian wanted to do right there was feel her silky hair between his fingers as she took him over and over again with her mouth-

_But why not have a little fun first?_

Before she had the chance to free his length from his trousers, he pushed her back down on the bed, wrists pinned beneath his hands as he met her hot gaze. His lips hovered just above hers, and they continued to ghost over her skin as he descended to her neck. His teeth grazing gently over her soft skin immediately had her back arching and nipples peaking beneath the white blouse she wore.

“As much as I love you teasing me, Dorian, I think we're both too starved of each other to be beating around the bush like this,” Aelin breathed.

Their eyes met again. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as his voice strained against his self control.

She squirmed a little beneath him, but her turquoise eyes never wavered from his. “Fuck me,” she stated simply.

Oh, how easy it would've been to give in to his cravings and fuck her until they were both hoarse. To have her moaning and begging for his mercy. To have her cunt squeezing around his hard length…

“Do it yourself,” he commanded instead.

Her eyes flared with anger and her lips peeled back to bare her pointed teeth. But he ignored her wrath and grabbed her hand, guiding it between her legs to her wet folds. His fingers aligned on top of hers, he made her press down on her clit, the fire in her eyes slowly fogging with lust. Once her fingers moved all on their own, Dorian drew away and stood up, watching the woman he loved as she pleasured herself for him. A small part of him sparked up in jealousy, as it had done when he first found her like this, for he was not the one making her hips roll and back arch.

As she masturbated, Dorian paced around the room, undressing himself as he went, he could feel Aelin's gaze burning his skin. She was annoyed at him, but deep down a naughty part of her _liked_ what he was doing.

“How was your journey back?” his queen asked casually as he took off his tunic and dumped it on the floor, giving her a perfect view of his fairly muscular torso.

He moved onto his boots, propping it up against the chest at the foot of the bed as he replied, “Well enough,” one boot off, “though, one of your little folk took to leaving me all sorts of gifts in the mornings,” the other boot gone, he scowled as she smiled at him before taking a slick thumb into her mouth, sucking on her own taste. “Don't stop,” he commanded, lusty seriousness leaking back into his tone. “I want you drenched by the time I get to you.”

She gave him a look that said he was perfectly capable of doing this himself, but she returned to her ministrations nonetheless. Every movement of her fingers sent shivers of pleasure through her veins, and as soon as he started taking off his trousers, her teeth found her lip and she began gnawing on the skin.

Even with his underwear still on (to her chagrin), she could still see how much he needed her, needed release, and he twitched when he noticed her eyeing his erection. There were so many things she wanted to do to him, she had thought about it almost every day he was gone, and these thoughts alone propelled her to that cliff's edge she so often stood atop. She danced along it for a while, so close to orgasm as she clutched the bed sheets and moaned her frustrations, willing both her mind and her mate to go that extra mile to grant her release.

And when she thought she could almost jump off that edge…

Her hand was ripped away, frozen in midair as Dorian's phantom grip held it there. Anger flared up inside her again and she glared at him as he approached, a smirk on his face.

“Do you have any idea how jealous you make me?” he asked, his voice low and seductive.

_Jealous!? Of my own hand!? My own fingers!?_

He released her hand and she sat up, but did not move to touch herself, waiting in anticipation of what he'd do next. This version of Dorian was unpredictable.

Sitting down closely next to her on the bed, he took her face in one hand and dove the other teasingly between her thighs (so achingly close to where she wanted him), noting the slight sheen to her hot and sweaty skin.

Their lips were but millimetres apart, and she oh so wanted to close that distance; a distance that had been there for too long. So she trailed her fingers down the skin of his torso, and began, “Just- Just let me touch you...it's been so long and I- I…” She bit her lip for emphasis and noted his dilated pupils as her hand descended to his throbbing length, still clothed in his underwear. It was all the pieces to her cunning plan.

The rough yet slow kiss he pressed to her lips was the permission she needed to continue. She practically ripped the fabric hiding his cock from her right off his hips, earning her a slight gasp against her mouth. A satisfied smirk spread itself on her lips at the familiar feel of her fingers wrapped around him.

She moved her hand up and down, so achingly slow, teasing him into releasing a grunt of annoyance. All the while their kiss deepened, their tongues caressing, memorising, barely the tip of the iceberg of their passion and love. She had missed him so much, the mate bond a weight on her soul as much as it gave her life.

Pumping faster, she felt their kiss become feral, knowing her mate was coming apart at the seams. She could end it all. She could mount him right now and feel him fit so perfectly inside her. All this time spent apart, she knew they were taking their frustrations out on each other.

Aelin broke off their kiss and locked their eyes in a heated gaze of turquoise and sapphire, she loved to see him at her mercy.

He moaned her name as she continued with her ministrations, occasionally circling her thumb over the tip of him, making him groan and throw his head back to the ceiling.

So Aelin, smirking, scooted back on the bed to lower her face to his cock. Without warning, she took his head into her mouth and swirled her tongue around him. His breathy moans were indicator enough that she was doing everything perfectly, her hair was gripped in his hand (though gently) whilst the other clawed at the bed sheets as she drove him crazy with her mouth.

“Aelin, I'm-” Dorian choked out, no doubt nearing his climax. She loved the sound of her name on his lips, especially in that tone; the desperate, longing voice that he used to beg.

Oh, he'd beg alright.

With one last satisfying suck to his length, she released him with a smack of her lips and sat up, a dangerous smirk to her mouth. He knew that smirk, it was the assassin’s not the queen’s.

“What are you doing, Aelin?” He panted, his face taking on a slight flustered blush.

“Getting my revenge,” she whispered simply with that seductive tone of hers. Leaning in close - though, not touching, she noted the heavy breaths he took, the tongue that lashed out to wet his dry lips, the slight shine on his forehead that made his hair stick to it.

She loved his hair, especially when her fingers dragged through it, especially when it’s darkness contrasted against the white of her thighs.

Closer she moved towards him, lips almost touching, but he did not dare move, and merely regarded her with an unreadable expression. Although, Aelin felt the longing, yearning, and lust writhing beneath his skin. “So are we going to keep playing games, love?” she asked, that primal part of her that she kept under lock and key opening an eye. “Or are you going to give me what we _both_ deserve?”

It wasn’t even five seconds before they were at each other again; lips locked in a passionate kiss, their magic threatening to shake the world around them. Aelin was pushed onto her back again before Dorian sheathed himself inside of her, the harmony of moans they elicited was a cry both of satisfaction and for more.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him closer and moaned into his lips. It felt so right Aelin almost wept at having him back in her arms. It felt like years that they had been apart.

As he began moving in and out of her, their kisses grew hurried but gentle. Then they separated, staring at one another before Dorian moved his mouth to her neck, sucking and biting just enough to form a brand on her skin. He travelled lower and lower, all the while his mate moaned at each thrust of his cock inside her, until he reached the neckline of her rumpled sleepshirt. In one swift movement, it was gone and discarded onto the floor. His lips found her breasts.

Aelin’s cries increased as he bit and sucked on her nipples, gracing them equally with his mouth.

Gasping, Aelin felt herself being dragged up as Dorian rose onto his knees, settling her into his lap. His moans heated her skin as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, hands clutching at her shoulder and back. Her fingers wove themselves into his hair, holding him close as her hips ground against his, raw pleasure like fire in her veins.

She felt like she was going to explode.

Then, suddenly, she was flipped over, her back to his chest as he thrust himself inside her once more. She cried aloud, marvelling at how deep he fit, and stumbled over his name several times when he bit into her neck. The hand on her breast squeezed in desperation, and she felt his other hand slither down her skin before his fingers rubbed precise circles into her clit.

Moaning into her ear, Dorian shuddered against her, no doubt nearing his climax as she neared hers. Her hand found his at her breast and she linked their fingers before release overcame them, the two crying out into the heated air around them.

The world was quiet save for the ragged breathing of the couple on the bed. Aelin did not move from the arms of her mate, and simply smiled with the thought that they were together again. And Dorian rested his head against hers, breathing in her scent.

She twitched when she got up from his lap and turned in his arms. Forehead to forehead, they smiled at each other, grateful that they were in each other’s arms again. She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, then another, then another until he chuckled and pulled her into a toe-curling kiss, his hands either side of her face.

“I’ve missed you,” Dorian said before pressing a kiss to her forehead, a smile still upon his face.

She huffed a laugh. “Really? I couldn’t tell,” she remarked, a mischievous grin lighting up her features.

He scowled but smiled once again as he hugged her around the waist and pressed his lips to her neck, mumbling, “Smart ass,” under his breath. As he kissed up to her jawline, he asked, “So what do you say,” they locked eyes, a smirk pulling at his lips, “round two?”

She laughed before tackling him back onto the bed.

~

“ _Really?_ ” Aelin huffed, scrutinising her appearance in the full length mirror. “Was it _really_ necessary to cover me in hickeys?” She prodded at the recently formed purple bruises that dotted her body, most of them concentrated around her breasts, collar, and neck. First, her gaze fell to the turquoise dress her maidservants had laid out for her and its plunging neckline, then it went back to the mirror as she glared at her king, a smug smile on his handsome face.

She knew he loved her breasts, from the way his hands always found them - clothed or no - whenever they were in close proximity (she had always swatted him away but now she grew insulted whenever he didn't grant them the love and attention they deserved), and now as the hickeys all over them winked at her from the mirror. Dorian didn't seem to be fussed, however, he even looked proud to be sporting the bruises on his own neck of which she gave him.

Yet, Aelin seethed, “I was looking forward to wearing that dress!” She pointed angrily to it.

The king merely cocked his head, sapphire eyes roaming appreciatively over her naked form. “There's nothing stopping you from wearing it, love, it's no secret that we're mates.” Then he added, “Or _married_ , for that matter.”

“Well, I don't want to be advertising it to our whole empire, do I!?” She spun around as a furious blush rose to her skin, her face and chest reddening. Looking up at the ceiling, she huffed before stomping over to her dress. “I hate you, Dorian Havilliard. You're an idiot.” She huffed once more and picked up her garment for the day, making her way towards her dressing room.

He spoke up before she crossed the threshold, a mischievous grin upon his lips. “You’re already insulting me and I haven't even had breakfast yet,” he remarked, a suggestive tone to his voice.

Aelin, fae ears twitching with one hand against the door frame, dropped the dress that was in the other, her eyes slowly glancing behind her shoulder. Dorian had sunk down into the bed, his head nestled in the pillow; waiting.

A familiar liquid heat began to spread between her thighs and her nipples stood erect at the chills of anticipation that ran up and down her spine.

An offer she very rarely refused.

The next thing Aelin knew, her fingernails were carving grooves into the wooden headboard of which she gripped tightly. Her breath was coming fast and was occasionally disrupted by moans and cries as the King of Adarlan, determined to eat his way to her heart, indulged himself with his morning feast.


End file.
